"Exactly," he answered. "But, Pauline, I am afraid you havn't rested at all to-day. Have you slept?"
"No; and I wish I could; my head feels so strangely--light, you know--and as if I couldn't think."
"Haven't you seen the Doctor?"
"No--and that's what I want to say. I won't have the Doctor here; and I want you to take me home to-morrow morning, early, I have put a good many of my clothes into my trunk, and Bettina will help me with the rest to-night. Isn't there any train before the five o'clock?"
"No," said Richard, uneasily. "Pauline, I think you'd better not arrange to go away to-morrow."
"If you don't take me out of this house I shall go mad. I have been thinking about it all day, and I know I shall."
Richard was silent for a moment, then, with the wise instinct of affection, wonderful in man, and in a man who had had no experience in dealing with diseased or suffering minds, he acquiesced in my plan to go; told me that we would take the earliest train, and interested me in thoughts about my packing. About nine o'clock he came to my room-door, and I heard some one with him. It was the Doctor.
I turned upon Richard a fierce look, and said, very quietly, he might go away, for I would not see the Doctor. After that, they tried me with Sophie, but with less success; and, finally, Richard came back alone, with a glass in his hand.
"Take this, Pauline, it will make you sleep."
I wanted to sleep very much, so I took it.